


a lifetime of promises

by catthecoder



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22016626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catthecoder/pseuds/catthecoder
Summary: Betty has a soft spot for Christmas and Jughead has a soft spot for making Betty happy,or a handful of vignettes of Betty and Jughead celebrating Christmas together throughout the years.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 22
Kudos: 69
Collections: 6th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, Bughead Secret Santa, Home for the HoliDale





	a lifetime of promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miss_eee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_eee/gifts).



> happy holidays and (although a bit belated) merry christmas! 
> 
> i had the pleasure to be a secret santa for the lovely [@miss-eee](https://miss-eee.tumblr.com) and i had a total blast! i've got to be honest, fluff isn't my strongest forte, but i'm really happy with how this came together and so hopefully you will as well!
> 
> the fic's title comes from tina turner's _simply the best_
> 
> the story is un-betad, so please, forgive me for any typos/mistakes that might have slipped my attention.
> 
> happy reading and i hope you’ll enjoy this pile of fluff at least half as much as i enjoyed writing it!
> 
> xx lav / [@catthecoder](https://catthecoder.tumblr.com)

The spirit of Christmas has settled over the Cooper-Jones household this year as seamlessly as any year before. Whether it is the smell of a fresh batch of gingerbread cookies that Alice just pulled out of the oven, or maybe the tones of Silent Night coming from the vinyl in the living room, or maybe it has something to do with the frostbite that slowly creeps up the windows, it is undeniable - Christmas, is here and everybody should feel merry.

And, Betty thinks that everybody is, at least to some extent.

Because, no matter how hard she tries to let the Christmas spirit overtake her like usually, no matter how many warm and cozy sweaters she wears or how many gifts she carefully wraps, a heavy feeling still resides in the pit of her stomach, a sour taste still lingers in her mouth.

She tries to wash it down and away with a half-glass of eggnog that her mother lets her sip during the dinner and with the generous helping of hot chocolate Jughead prepares for her afterwards. She tries to push it down as she eats, but every bit of food almost makes her face frown in disgust, the food tainted by the sourness. She tries to forget about it as she and Jughead cuddle up underneath a blanket while watching Jellybean huff unsatisfied over the selection of Christmas movies they own, and as she finally settles on Die Hard, claiming that it  _ is  _ a valids Christmas movie.

But the sourness has other plans and it stays, poking at Betty for attention.

At first, she really does her best to not think about it. She even tells herself that she has no idea what it is caused by.

_ (It is a lie and deep down, she is well aware of that.) _

However, it is Christmas and she will not let something as stupid as that ruin her favourite holiday.

It is only much later that night, when the only light still on in the Cooper-Jones house are the flickering golds of the Christmas tree down in the living room, that Jughead shimmers in the bed and turns around to face her. The moonlight coming in through the window illuminates his face softly.

Even in the middle of the night, the question is in his eyes is still as clear as a day. “Is everything okay?” he asks. His voice is barely above whisper, but in the silence, it still carries strongly.

Betty considers nodding and sending him to sleep; she considers pretending that  _ she  _ is asleep. But she doesn’t go through with any of those options and a soft  _ no _ falls from her lips.

Jughead’s arms are around her immediately, pulling her flush against his chest. She can feel his heart beating mere inches from her ear, she can feel the warmth of his skin burning her wherever they touch;  _ it feels like home. _

His lips flutter against the crown of her head, a soft kiss that whispers  _ I love you _ .

_ I know _ , she presses into his chest before moving her head back to catch his gaze.

It is intense and yet loving; it is warm and yet shivering; it makes her thoughts run wild and yet tongue trip. 

“It’s going to sound really stupid,” she whispers as she feels the intensity of his gaze bearing into her, searching for answers in the micro-expressions of her face.

“It is not,” Jughead argues softly. The words are smooth and sweet like honey, filling Betty’s ears and erasing her insecurities. 

Her eyes drop from his face to his chest, fixating on the spot she has kissed second before. It glitters in the moonlight, faintly glowing like a star that would lead her home. “It’s our first Christmas living together and I just-” she stops for a moment to run her finger along his chest, “- I just didn’t think we would be spending it watching our parents kissing and being all...” 

The rest of the sentences lingers in the air between them, unsaid but heavily implied by the way Betty’s tone curled and throat tightened. 

Her relationship with her mother has been anything by the ideal ever since she was a child and the same goes for Jughead and his dad. But recently, Betty has been feeling as if even the small pinch of respect the parents held for their children has disappeared while they decided to rekindle their old high school romance.

Betty isn’t an evil person, or one to hold grudges for that matter, but to see her mother looking all heart-eyed and kissing Betty’s boyfriend dad; she doesn’t think anybody could blame her for having her mood a tiny bit ruined. 

But probably the worst thing about all of it is that no matter how rocky her relationship with her mom gets, no matter how often they don’t see eye to eye or argue over the most basic things, Betty still wishes her happiness. After marrying a serial killer, she deserves it. 

(If only it wasn’t with her boyfriend’s dad.)

“I understand,” Jughead whispers lowly as he pulls her closer, her cheek pressed into his chest. His lips drop to the crown of her head once again, leaving a tiny wet spot behind as they disconnect from her skin a few seconds later. “You know what?” he asks then, his lips caressing her skin.

Betty’s head perks slightly up and her eyes find Jughead’s in the dimly lit room.

“What?” she whispers, prompting him to explain.

“Once we get out of here - once we are together in New York or Ohio or wherever we decide to go eventually - I’m going to make sure that every Christmas is the most wonderful day of the year for you. We’ll put up too many lights and you’ll bake more cookies than we’ll be able to eat and I’ll buy a bigger tree than we’ll be able to fit through a door; but at the end, none of that will matter, because none of those things bad,” Jughead whispers slowly, unveiling his plans to Betty.

And she simply swallows every single word that leaves his mouth quickly as if she has been starved for years and somebody has just offered up the tastiest meal up to her; she lets herself drown in the sweetness of his promises, in the pictures of future together he paints for her so effortlessly.

Her eyelids fall shut, a sudden way of sleepiness overcoming her along with the peacefulness and happiness. “I’d like that,” Betty whispers. She feels drowsy, riding on waves of emotions, so she just cuddles closer to Jughead, pushing their bodies impossibly close - like they’re meant to be. “I’d like that very much,” she adds before letting the exhaustion finally overtake her.

**_// a year later //_ **

New York is as perfect as she dreamt it up - a city that’s everything Riverdale wasn’t. Unlike their sleepy town, the Big Apple is constantly pulsating with energy, streets full of people rushing somewhere, either running after their dreams or looking for meaning of their lives. Something is always happening somewhere and Betty can barely keep up with it; afraid that she might miss it if she does as much as blink.

She supposes that is the reason why the time passes as fast as it does - and why summer changes into autumn and the orange leaves that have been covering the ground up until a few weeks back get replaced by a white blanket of fluffiness (that changes into a brown mash in a course of a day, but those few hours have been rather magical).

School has been overwhelming and so has been her part-time job and Betty doesn’t even really realise it is Christmas sooner than a huge red 25 smiles at her from her desktop calendar. Apart from a few little trinkets, her room is hauntingly void of Christmas spirit; and the oven in the kitchen she shares with another 5 girls has broken down a week ago, which sadly means no cookies this year. Truth be told, it barely feels like one of her favourite holidays; it barely feels more special than any other ordinary day.

And with that realisation comes a wave of nostalgia and undeniable sadness.

It slowly wells up in her throat, a huge ball that she can try, but ultimately will fail to swallow every time she attempts it. It pushes at her chest, heavy weight that makes her breathing fall off its regular rhythm and become a lot shallower and much more unpredictable. It dries up her eyes and then sends tsunamis of water in, forcing it out in form of tears just underneath her eyes.

She hates it, feeling like this, but at the same time, she can’t really help it.

A knock on her door pulls her out of her thoughts and back to reality. Quickly, she swipes the sleeve of her sweater under her eyes and just prays that her mascara hasn’t smudged (and effectively given away the state she is in) before getting up and heading towards the door.

Jughead isn’t supposed to come over for another couple of hours, so it is probably just one of her roommates and sadly, they all have seen her in worse states than this, so she doesn’t think twice before opening her door.

But on the other side of it isn’t an overexcited bubbly smile that all of the girls in her dorm seem to always sport; instead, it is a soft smirk that seems to disappear the moment their eyes meet.

“Betts, baby, what’s wrong?” Jughead asks and Betty isn’t sure what came first - the words or his bone-crushing hug. 

“No-thing,” she whispers into his chest, or at least tries, but her voice trips up halfway through the word as a small cry escapes from her lips.

Jughead doesn’t say anything - instead, he just pushes her into the room, shutting the door behind them with his foot. He’s still holding her tight and Betty couldn’t be more grateful for it, too afraid that had he stopped, her knees would give out under the pressure of her emotions and she’d come tumbling to the floor, like all of her expectations of the perfect Christmas.

He still doesn’t speak as he moves them towards bed and neither as he gently places Betty down between her soft throw pillows, of which none are Christmas-themed, which only makes her heart break a bit more.  _ She has screwed this up so bad- _

“Shh, everything is alright, I’m here,” Jughead whispers. His hands rub her back gently, drawing circles into the material of her sweater and slowly, she finds her breathing synchronising with his movements.

Once she feels calm and certain enough that her voice won’t break with the first word she mutters, she pushes away from his embrace. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“For what?” Jughead asks. There’s a certain hint of amusement in his voice, but it doesn’t feel teasing or degratatory; instead, it feels calming. It feels like he isn’t afraid of breaking her and that makes her feel a bit stronger.

“For this,” Betty says as she motions her hand around her face.

Jughead raises a brow at her. “For being beautiful?” he asks.

A chuckle tries to break out from her throat, but Betty doesn’t really feel happy enough to let it - so she drops her head down in an attempt to hide the smile that has managed to break through her defences.

“No,” she shakes her head. 

“Do you want talk about it?” Jughead asks softly. His hands are no longer on her back, but in her lap now, playing with her fingers, tying them together and then untangling them only to find another way for them to connect.

Betty sighs, a part of her wants to say no, but that part is quickly overpowered by her desire to always be completely open and honest with Jughead, about everything from the smallest things to the life-changing ones. She isn’t quite sure where on the scale this falls, but all that matters is that it falls somewhere.

“This isn’t how I imagined today to go,” Betty admits slowly. “It doesn’t feel like Christmas at all.”

Jughead hums lightly and waits for a couple of seconds to see if she is about to continue, but when Betty doesn’t say anything, he reaches for his backpack and starts pulling out things.

“I know that I promised you that I would do everything to make Christmas every year the most unforgettable day for you and I know that I have failed spectacularly this year,” he says as he places various objects in front of her, “but I was hoping that this would make up for it?”

Betty holds his gaze for couple more seconds before letting her eyes drop down and examine everything Jughead has brought closely; a small bundle of colourful Christmas lights, a pair of bright red santa hats, a box of store-bought cookies, an USB stick and a nicely wrapped box.

“What’s all this?” Betty asks as she lifts her head up to meet his eyes. 

“Well, first of all, you have to put this on,” Jughead says as he picks up the two hats, making quick work of placing one on top of Betty’s head and replacing his beanie with the second one, “and then we can get started on putting those lights up. Everybody knows that you can’t have Christmas without lights, Betts.” 

She doesn’t even try to fight back a smile anymore as she watches her boyfriend explain his elaborate plan on how to breathe a bit more Christmas mood into her sadly-looking dorm room; she can’t, not when she sees the spark in his eyes shine brighter than any lights he has brought ever could.

“Will we get to eat those cookies as well?” Betty asks, her smile now moving to teasing territory.

Jughead shakes his head firmly as he picks up the USB drive. “No, those are to go along with the selection of Christmas movies I’ve brought.”

At this point, all of the sadness that has been weighing at her is long forgotten, replaced by nothing but sheer excitement. 

She picks up the last thing - a small box wrapped in brown paper with a red ribbon tied around. A bow sits on the top of it and although it is slightly skewed, Betty thinks it is the prettiest one she has ever seen. “And what’s this?” she asks, gently shaking the box in the air.

Jughead quickly snaps it out of her hand and drops it back into his backpack. “That’s a gift for my lovely girlfriend.”

Betty’s heart skips a beat at those words - three years in and she still hasn’t grown tired of hearing them. “That’s good,” she hums as she reaches under her bed, from where she pulls out a slightly bigger box, this one wrapped with a red-white paper and a green bow, “Because I have this thing for my lovely boyfriend,” she adds, copying his words.

The widest smile ever breaks out on Jughead’s face as he pulls her into an excited kiss and for a moment, all their plans about putting up lights and cuddling under warm blankets while watching the cheesiest of Christmas movies are forgotten.

Because, in that moment, Christmas isn’t about any of that, but simply being with the one you love the most.

**_// a few years later //_ **

Betty only releases a heavy sigh once she is safely in the elevator, a button of the floor their apartment is located on pressed and the threat of vile snowstorm no longer pouring against the windows of her car, but safely locked behind the thick brick walls of their building. 

Had it been up to her, she would not have made the trip to Riverdale on Christmas Eve - for years, that day has been reserved for her and Jughead. Meeting up with families and friends always had to wait until later days of holiday. Christmas has been always Betty’s favourite holiday and Jughead has made good on his promise to make it as stress-free and relaxing for her as possible. And if that means pushing the inevitable awkward dinner with their parents as far as possible, than so be it.

Except that this year, Jason has gifted Polly a holiday in Caribbean for Christmas and since they are set to leave in two days, Alice simply couldn’t have allowed for the Coopers’ Christmas dinner to not have both of her children present, making last minute amends to move it to Christmas Eve.

Which ultimately resulted into this situation - Betty driving back to New York from Riverdale at the dead of night during a snowstorm, wishing that her boss would have made her work today so she could get out of the dinner like Jughead did. 

The elevator comes to a quick stop as they reach the fourth floor and Betty pushes herself away from its wall. She walks towards the apartment door, in a bit of a tired haze, just slowly forcing one foot in front of the other. She wants to be home so desperately, cuddled up in Jughead’s embrace as they eat their weight in cookies and watch the same Christmas movies as they’ve been watching ever since she could remember. 

She has texted Jughead as she was leaving Riverdale, so a part of her expects him to be waiting for her to get home. However, as she unlocks the door and steps into the apartment, she finds it almost completely covered in darkness and silence. The only light is coming from the living room and by the changing intensity of it, she supposes that nothing but the lights on the Christmas tree are on.

Betty slowly drops her bag to the floor and shrugs her jacket before making her way to the living room.

A smile spreads on her lips as soon as she reaches the doorstep - Jughead is sprawled on the couch, dressed in his Christmas pajamas and with a fuzzy blanket thrown across his feet. There’s an opened (and a half-empty) box of cookies by his side and an almost empty glass of milk on the coffee table.

But she barely glazes over all those details, as her eyes linger on Jughead’s chest.

Because, there, snoozing peacefully in his beanie, is a small ginger ball of fur.

Betty’s breath hitches at the sight and her heart skips a beat - since they moved into this apartment, they’ve been talking about getting a pet at some point, but all those conversations seemed like a hazy dreams of future, not something tangible or close.

“Jug?” Betty asks carefully as she approaches him. She gently nudges his shoulder and it takes him just a couple of seconds after that to slowly open his eyes. A sleepy smile breaks out on his face and Betty almost melts at the spot.

“Hey,” he says slowly, the word drown out due to residual sleepiness.

“Hey,” she answers.

She tries to hold his gaze, but can’t help herself and before she knows what’s happening, her eyes have fallen to the ball of fur that’s napping on his chest. “What’s this?” she asks as she lifts her head back up.

Jughead blinks a couple of times, as if he isn’t quite sure what she’s referring to; only once his eyes drop to his chest as well, he sighs lightly. His hand comes up automatically and scratches the small ball behind its neck, which essentially breaks it out of its slumber. A small head raises up and as the ball of fur transforms into a tiny kitten, Betty almost loses her breath.

The kitten slowly drags her eyes open and looks intently at Betty for a long moment, before blinking slowly and letting its head fall back against Jughead’s chest, probably deciding that Betty isn’t posing any threat to her comfort.

“I found her as I left work today,” Jughead starts explaining. His voice is soft and barely above point of whispering, as if he himself didn’t want to scare the kitten away. “It was already snowing pretty hard and she was all alone in the cold and I just didn’t have the heart to leave her there.”

Betty’s eyes linger at the small angel relaxing in Jughead’s arms; the whole sight warms her heart almost to the point of melting. But still, she can’t help but wonder, “doesn’t she belong to anyone?”

Jughead shrugs lightly. “I don’t think so,” he shakes his head. “She doesn’t have a collar or anything like that… Plus, you know how many stray cats are there on the streets of New York.”

Betty hums agreeingly. She slowly lifts his hand up and Jughead, understanding her plans immediately, stops scratching the kitten’s neck, making space for Betty’s fingers to replace his. 

“You know, I used to own what I thought to be the ginger-est cat ever,” she whispers slowly. Her mind plays dozens of memories of Caramel in a split second, filling her up with waves of nostalgia. But all it takes for that melancholy to disappear is one blink; one short second spent looking at this new ginger ball of cuteness and fluffiness. “Though this one might just take that title.”

Jughead laughs lightly and as his chest moves up and down, the kitten’s head shoots up. She sends an offended look towards Jughead before snuggling even closer to him, hiding deeper in his beanie.

Betty can’t help but laugh at the whole situation, wholeheartedly and happily. She lifts her eyes to meet Jughead’s, which mirror her joy, but also hold a more serious question.

Realistically, Betty knows that they should take more time to think about this - after all, a decision to get a pet is a huge one. They are both busy adults, working full-time jobs and still trying to find stability and security in life; throwing a pet to take care of into the mix might not be the wisest decision.

But as the kitten purrs underneath Betty’s palm when her fingers find the best scratching spot, those thoughts leave Betty’s mind with a poof, leaving just a single question at the tip of her tongue.

“What are we going to name her?”

**_// a couple of years later //_ **

Betty has to admit, the couple of years they have spent in their first small one-bedroom apartment were some of her favourite ever, which is why it came as a surprise when their landlord handed them the eviction notice a handful of weeks before Christmas.

Even through his assurances, that it isn’t because of them but simply because the building is being torn down to make space for a skyscraper full of offices, Betty couldn’t help but feel betrayed. The apartment hasn’t been perfect - they have had to deal with more leaks than majority of people probably have to in their lifetimes; in winter, the windows let in way too much cold air and in summer, they barely managed to keep any heat out; the floorboards were loose and creaked every time you even did so little as think about stepping on them; but still, it was the first place they owned together and therefore, it was always going to hold a special place in Betty’s heart.

Looking for a new apartment with holidays coming up could only be described as hell on Earth. On the top of the insane amount of work both she and Jughead had to deal with and preparations for Christmas, viewings of apartments all over the city were really the last thing they wanted to deal with.

But they managed - somehow. After being raised in a place like Riverdale, people always do.

So that’s how they have ended up in the situation they are in today - on Christmas Eve - in a brand new apartment. But instead of fairy lights and Christmas tree and hundreds of small trinkets hung all over their home to bring a breath of holiday spirit, they are surrounded by cardboard boxes, suitcases and dust.

On the list of Betty’s Christmas, this one definitely ranks very low. Probably even the lowest.

However, she doesn’t let that show and instead offers Jughead a warm smile as he brings up the last of their boxes from the moving truck downstairs. 

There’s an exhausted sigh ready to fall from her lips, but she bites it away and walks over to the first box that’s labeled kitchen. She is about to tear the tape away and start unpacking when Jughead’s hands stop her.

“Leave that for now,” he whispers.

Normally, she would argue, but after dealing with moving, on Christmas Eve of all days, she simply is too exhausted to do anything but follow him into the living room. Well, into what is about to become a living room, once the rest of their stuff gets delivered after the holidays. 

They sit down on the floor and Jughead reached for one of his bags and pulls out his laptop, followed by a bottle of wine and a bundle of Christmas lights.

“I know that this isn’t the most ideal Christmas,” he says, “but unpacking can wait until tomorrow. Let’s just celebrate today, alright?”

Betty holds his gaze for what feels like hours before nodding lightly. Jughead smiles softly at her and picks up the Christmas lights to carry them to the nearest outlet. Betty watches him as he spreads them across the piles of boxes, attempting to liven-up the dull space.

As she watches him, Gingerbread enters the living room and taps straight into Betty’s lap. She can’t help but chuckle - the cat has slept through the entire day of moving and rattling of boxes only to wake up now, once everything finally fell into silence.

Betty reluctantly moves her attention from Jughead struggling with lights to the cat in her lap. She scratches her back until Gingerbread starts purring and flips around to give Betty access to her belly. Betty chuckles lightly, but obliges instantly.

She isn’t sure how much time passes before she notices that Jughead has stopped battling the lights and that the room is now silent and enveloped in a soft golden glow. She lifts her head up from the cat in her lap, one that has been taking up all of her attention, to look at her boyfriend.

Jughead is standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. Everything about him seems casual, except for the look on his face - bathed in the golden light, it seems impossibly soft, as if he was looking at the most beautiful view, completely enchanted by what he is seeing.

“What?” Betty asks with a subtle laugh, but he doesn’t flinch, staying frozen in his smitten haze.

“What?” Betty asks again, this time stirring a bit at her spot. Gingerbread hisses lightly and raises her paws to grasp onto Betty’s hand and stop her from removing it, but Betty isn’t paying attention to the kitten’s machinations. Her whole focus is trained solely on Jughead, watching him expectantly as she awaits a reaction, an answer - anything.

An uncertain amount of time passes before he finally speaks up. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

Betty’s cheeks fire up immediately and even though he probably can’t see it in the dimly lit room, she still tries to hide it by shaking her head. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Jughead argues. “In fact, let me show you something.”

Betty doesn’t get a chance to ask  _ what _ before Jughead turns around and quickly starts looking over the boxes. She doesn’t disturb him, just watches carefully as he moves from one to the next, until he finds the one he’s been looking for.

Betty doesn’t need to see the label of it to know what’s inside - the typewriter she has given him years ago for Christmas. 

He tears the tape away and opens the box, but he doesn’t take the typewriter out - instead, he just reaches in and picks up something else, something much smaller.

“I have loved you for as long as I can remember, Betts, and that’s one of those things that are never going to change. It’s there on the list, along with facts like that the sky is blue, that Gingerbread will do anything to get our attention and that you love Christmas.”

“Hey,” Betty interrupts him, “I hope you know my love for you is on that list as well.”

Jughead chuckles lightly. “Of course, but don’t interrupt me, just listen,” he nods. “I’ve made you a promise to always do my best to make this day special for you and the day I fail is the day I die.”

Betty opens her mouth to argue with him, to say that he could never fail, but one stern look silences her instantly.  _ Just listen _ .

“I’ve had this for a couple of months already,” he says slowly. “I’ve been thinking about it for much longer and then one day, I saw this on my way to meet you for a lunch and I just couldn’t resist but buy it.” A small chuckle falls from his lips after that, interrupting his monologue for a second. “I almost gave it to you that day.”

Betty has about a dozen of questions on the tip of her tongue, but she bites them all down and forces herself to listen, to wait for Jughead to answer them on his own terms.

“But it didn’t seem like the right moment - like the perfect moment. It never did, not until now,” he says. His head drops down and he finally angles his hand towards Betty well enough so she can see what he had pulled out from the box.

Her breath gets hitched in her throat and her heart skips a beat as he drops down to a knee.

“Because, how could any other day be more perfect to ask you to be my wife than Christmas?”

A sob escapes her lips, one that’s filled with indescribable joy and happiness; tears push into her eyes and her vision gets hazy - Jughead and lights behind him blurring together into one ( _ but really, hasn’t it always been that way? _ ) 

Without thinking, she stands up and a part of her brain that isn’t completely lost in the moment registers the angry  _ meow _ that Gingerbread sends her way, but she doesn’t let that stop her as she quickly makes her way through the living room, until her body is against Jughead’s, until her arms are pulling him close and lips finding his.

Somewhere, in the mess of touches and kisses and warm tears streaming down her face she hears herself mumble  _ yes _ ,  _ yes, yes _ , all the way until the word stops sounding like a word but more like an sigh of happiness.

And it is right there, in his embrace, that she decides to rethink her opinion of this being the worst Christmas yet - it definitely belongs on the top spot.

**_// another handful of years later //_ **

This Christmas, it is Betty who has made sure that everything was perfect; from the cookies she has baked, through the decorations and the Christmas tree, all the way to the gifts that she has carefully wrapped a couple of days ago and are now lying in neat piles underneath the tree. And if all of that is because of one particular gift, who cares; nobody can really hold the excitement against her.

She doesn’t remember being this overjoyed about a present in years - as much as she enjoys coming up with the perfect gifts for her loved ones, her relationship with Jughead has long grown past the point when they make a big deal out of the surprises. Of course, that doesn’t stop her from finding something small every year to surprise him with, but it is never the biggest nor the most expensive item under the tree.

And her special gift this year - her surprise for Jughead - might not have been the most expensive thing to get, nor the biggest one, but it is for sure going to earn that title in the future.

“Are you ready to start unwrapping?” Jughead asks as he places a steaming mug of coffee into Betty’s open palm. He drops down onto the sofa next to her and takes a sip from his mug, a clear signal for Betty to start.

She also takes a sip from hers and her lips get burned a little, but not even the momentary pain has any chance of diminishing her excitement. She places her mug on the coffee table and heads towards the tree.

Gingerbread is sleeping amongst the boxes and so Betty tries her best not to wake her as she picks up first box. She doesn’t need to unwrap it to know what’s inside (since she both bought and wrapped it), but she finds the ritual soothing and fullifing, so she quickly gets to it.

By the time she is finished with it, Jughead also joins her on the floor. He picks up another box and gets to unwrapping it.

There’s something inherently peaceful and yet thrilling about it, a feeling Betty gets every Christmas, but this year, knowing what she has ready for Jughead, it has increased, ten-fold at least.

They are done with about two-thirds of the gifts when Jughead reaches for a small gift bag and Betty’s heart skips a beat.

“Is this for me?” he asks with a cheeky smile as he waves it in front of Betty’s face.

She just shrugs innocently and reaches for another gift, but doesn’t get started on opening it just yet - instead, she keeps her eyes glued to Jughead.

He’s humming along to some soft Christmas tune that is coming off from their radio and there’s this complete peacefulness and calmness to his entire posture. Betty desperately wants for her body to copy him, to also feel that free and relaxed, but she can’t stop her mind from running, her body from tensing up as she awaits his reaction.

Jughead quickly pulls out the contents of the bag outside. His brow furrows ever-so-slightly as he looks over the small grey woolen beanie in his palm. It takes him just a couple of seconds to lift his gaze and look at Betty, the confusion still present on his face.

“Is this for Gingerbread?” he asks with a chuckle to his tone. “Because I don’t think she’s going to want to trade my beanie for this tiny one.” 

Betty resists the urge to roll her eyes - how has she not expected this? “No, it’s not for Gingerbread,” she says quickly. She tries to keep her voice as cool and as leveled as possible, but the shell of put-togetherness is almost at the point of cracking.

“Then who’s it for? Betts, it is literally baby-sized, I can’t wear…” his voice trails of mid-sentence and with it, his entire expression changes. A soft “Oh,” has barely time to fall from his before they widen into an impossibly huge smile. His eyes twinkle with happiness, shining almost as brightly as the lights on the Christmas tree next to him.

Betty’s heart jumps back and forth like crazy and all she manages to say is another “Oh,” before Jughead leaps forward and connects their lips. 

The kiss feels like fireworks, it tastes like happiness and excitement and by the time it is over, Betty feels so high on the positive emotions that she doesn’t suppose it can get any more overwhelming and exciting.

But then Jughead places his hand on her belly and the warmth of his palm seeps through the thin material of her pajamas and she feels like her entire world is on fire, burning bright with a promise of a beautiful future.

**_// and lastly, some years later once again //_ **

The first thing that Betty notices when she opens her eyes is that it is snowing outside and,  _ gosh _ , she can’t remember the last time the Christmas has been white. Probably the year they got Gingerbread and New York was hit by that huge snowstorm - but definitely not in any of the following years. 

Back in Riverdale, they used to get a healthy dose of snow every year - when she and Polly were young, they would go out during the holidays and build snowmen in front of their house and sometimes, Archie would also join them and then, the snowmen-building quickly turned into a ruthless snowball fight, which left all three of them drenched from snow and sweat. 

She doesn’t have time to get further in her memories of what Christmas used to look like back when they were young before the reason why she was woken up interrupts her. 

Betty turns her head from the window towards Jughead, but instead of his sleepy face she is met with two of the widest smiles and eyes that sparkles so brightly, that they would put all of the stars to shame.

“Mommy, it’s Christmas!” Juliet screams as soon as she notices Betty is awake.

“Mommy, get up and come open gifts with us!” Rosie adds immediately, not wanting to stay in her sister’s shadow even for a second.

Jughead laughs somewhere behind them, probably glad that the kids chose to pester Betty instead of him, but she can’t resent them for it, not really, not a bit; because, one - they are her kids and she will love them no matter what, and two - in this aspect, they take after her; all of the excitement, the happiness and joy surrounding the Christmas - they are exactly like she used to be back when she was young, like she still gets during this time of the year.

So, she leans towards them, to the point where her forehead is almost touching theirs and with a wide grin, she whispers, “if you can get your daddy to make you breakfast, you can eat while unwrapping.”

Both girls literally shriek with joy and Betty barely has time to pull away from them before they turn to Jughead and start begging him for breakfast, almost as if they were competing which one could get louder, which one could plead faster. 

Betty just laughs as Jughead quickly agrees to make them breakfast and by the time Betty blinks, they are gone, probably already impatiently waiting by the Christmas tree, ready to dive into the presents.

Betty takes that few valuable seconds of relative peace and silence to stretch and turn to Jughead. Her husband is still wearing a sleepy expression on his face, but his lips are upturned in a soft smile and his eyes twinkle in between his slow blinks.

“You know,” he starts slowly, his voice still carrying that hoarseness he gets after a good night of sleep, “I didn’t think it was possible for somebody to love Christmas more than you do - but those two, they put you in shame so easily.”

He laughs, and so does Betty. There’s something indescribably soft and warm about that moment, about the two of them still tucked safely under their blankets, about the snow softly falling outside and covering the city in its white fluffiness, about the excited voices of their kids coming from behind the wall. It feels magical and Betty’s throat tightens at that thought and her eyes must surely become glassy as a couple of tears well up in them; her heart feels so full that she is afraid it might burst and she wouldn’t even notice, because she’s simply  _ that _ happy and content.

She wipes away the tears and before Jughead has a chance to ask, she speaks. “Do you know why that is?” she asks.

Jughead just shakes his head lightly and nudges her to explain.

“Because with you, everyday feels like Christmas,” Betty whispers, “you just got used to me being this excited.”

Jughead laughs as he pulls Betty in for a kiss - it’s soft and lazy and overflowing with appreciation and love. Once again, it makes Betty melt in the most wonderful ways possible.

To be completely honest, she would be completely content spending the entire day here like this - because, being with her loved one is the best way to spend her favourite day of the year. 

But since Jughead isn’t her only loved one anymore, she slowly peels herself away from his embrace and after leaving a last small pack on his lips, she finally sits up.

“I believe somebody promised girls a breakfast,” Betty says with a soft smile and Jughead grunts, but the noise quickly turns into a chuckle as he swings his feet down from the bed. “Please, make one for me as well,” Betty adds quickly as she pulls her Christmas jumper over her head and slides her feet into a cozy (and very cheesy) slippers with reindeers.

“Of course I will,” Jughead says with a smile, “now go before the two of them burst in here once again, all angry and furious that they have to wait for you.”

Betty is already halfway out of the bedroom as he finishes that, but still, she pauses and turns towards him for a couple more seconds. “I love you, Jug,” she says.

Jughead affectionately rolls his eyes before waving his hand at her. “I know that you’re only saying that because you know that I’m going to make pancakes and that instead of forcing you to help, I’m letting you have all the fun with the presents,” he says and Betty would like to argue, because he is only  _ partially  _ right, “but I love you too.”

In the end, a desperate call from the living room stops her from arguing with him, so she just blows him a kiss and with a wide smile plastered on her lips and a joyous jump to her step, she joins their kids in the living room.

Her last thought before getting swarmed by two pairs of tiny hands is that this truly is it - this is the magic of Christmas, this is what she has always dreamt of, this is what Jughead has always promised to give to her. 

This is her life now and she could not be more grateful.


End file.
